


Thirty Pieces Paid

by DachOsmin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Bad Guys Made Them Do It, Multi, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 05:58:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DachOsmin/pseuds/DachOsmin
Summary: “Wait,” DJ says.Phasma doesn’t turn to look at him. “If you wanted more for them you should have negotiated for it before handing them over,” she says in a tart monotone.As Finn watches, DJ’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I hadn’t realized,” he says at last, “how good they look on their knees.”





	Thirty Pieces Paid

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/gifts).



Finn doesn’t particularly like being back on a First Order Star Destroyer, but at least he’s got Rose at his side, and DJ, and some modicum of a plan.

Of course, the plan promptly goes to shit.

There’s no time to dissect it, to figure out what went wrong or what it means that there’s suddenly a platoon’s worth of blasters aimed at his head.

It’s only when Phasma has them on their knees in the middle of the hangar that it really hits him: he’s going to die.

He feels like a piece on a sabacc board in one of those games where the end is a foregone conclusion. There’s a stormtrooper behind him with a blaster trained on the back of his skull. Phasma is watching him with something like satisfaction in the tilt of her helmet. DJ is sauntering away.

And then there’s Rose, a blur at the corner of his eye. She’s shivering, he can just barely tell from the sound of her ragged breathing. He can’t look at her. He should- he should see if he can catch her eye, maybe give her a smile: he doesn’t want her to die afraid. But he doesn’t; he can’t bring himself to face her, to face his own failure. He’s weak and he hates himself for it.

He feels the cool barrel of the blaster against the back of his head. He lets his eyes fall shut.

On the far side of the hangar, DJ’s footsteps slow, then stop. “Wait,” he says.

It takes a second for Finn to process the word because it isn’t part of the script. DJ is supposed to walk away without looking back, his pockets a few credits heavier and his heart lighter a conscience. But no: when Finn looks up he’s still there, staring at Finn and Rose with an unreadable expression on his face. “Wait,” he says again.

Phasma doesn’t turn to look at him. “If you wanted more for them you should have negotiated for it before handing them over,” she says in a tart monotone.

“N-no, you were more than fair.” He offers her a wry grin, almost like he’s embarrassed. “I just think maybe I want them after all.”

A pause. “You must be joking.”

“Why not?” DJ waves a hand at the firing squad assembled behind them. “You aren’t using them.”

Phasma lets out a harsh bark of laughter. “You think I can release a pair of dangerous rebels-“

DJ waves her off. “He’s a j-janitor and she’s a mechanic. They don’t know shit.”

Phasma tilts her head at that slight angle that Finn usually parses as a raised eyebrow. “Then why do you want them?”

Finn wants to know that too. He wants to know that very much. He steals a glance up at DJ.

DJ is staring back at him. As Finn watches, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I hadn’t realized,” he says at last, “how good they look on their knees.”

That’s- oh. Finn swallows. There’s not a lot of ambiguity there. He can guess what it is DJ wants from them. He likes how they look on their knees. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out. But his mind shies away from naming it, because that would make it real.

“I see,” Phasma says, and even through the filter of her mask, Finn can hear the disgust in her voice. “Degenerate.”

DJ doesn’t seem insulted; he doesn’t even blink. “Do we have a deal?”

“I can’t give them to you for free.” And Finn knows DJ has won, because if she’s discussing price she’ll cave.

Going by the slow spread of his smile, DJ has come to the same conclusion. “I can throw in something extra.”

Phasma tilts her head to consider him. “What?”

He shuffles a step closer to her, bringing a hand up to shield his mouth. The soldiers at her side raise their guns but she waves them away. DJ leans in to whisper something against the side of her helmet, his eyes never leaving Finn. His gaze is too intense, too unsettling, and Finn has to look away a second later.

Phasma is silent for a moment, and Finn is seized with hope and fear in equal measure. He doesn’t know what he wants Phasma to say, he doesn’t know which outcome would be better or worse: death or the thing DJ has in store for them. Does he want to go with DJ? He realizes he does, and the shame is hot in his throat. Anything is better than being dead. He’s a survivor, and this is going to be just one more thing to endure.

Phasma looks down at him, and even though the black visor of her helmet is opaque and as merciless as he’s ever seen it, he knows she’s looking him in the eye. “If they get away from you it’s your head on the chopping block,” she says, and it sounds like clemency and a sentence all in one.

From DJ, a smooth chuckle. “They won’t get away.”

***

Phasma thoughtfully provides DJ with a stormtrooper escort to his ship, because she’s nice like that. Considering the circumstances, Finn can’t feel terribly charitable towards her, though.

They probably make a funny sight: Rose and him still dressed in stolen First Order officer uniforms, flanked by a full escort of stormtroopers. He wonders if he knows any of them. He hopes not.

And then at the front of their sorry cavalcade is DJ, coat swirling around his ankles as he walks, whistling some offkey space shanty that echoes against the high ceilings of the corridor. He’s smiling, the bastard. Like he’s looking forward to this. Like he just can’t wait.

Finn’s not going to let him enjoy it. Finn is going to be the worst fucking lay he’s ever had; that’ll show him.

He’s on autopilot as their escort leads them back to the _Libertine_ , and even though they were just here everything has changed now: he doesn’t feel like the same person he was when he left. DJ kindly invites the stormtroopers aboard and shows them where to deposit his new toys: in the deluxe state room with the plush carpet, the mirrored walls, and at the center of the room, the full bed.

“Enjoy, sir,” one of the stormtroopers says as they turn to leave, and Finn _really_ hopes it wasn’t someone he knew.

The door whirrs shut behind him. He has just a moment to panic, to realize the weight of the situation- and then DJ is pressing himself into Finn’s space, his chest flush with Finn’s back, his hand sliding down Finn’s chest. “N-now then, shall we-“

Shrieking, Rose cuts him off with a savage headbutt to his chest and pulls him to the ground.

If Finn were a real soldier and not a fucking janitor he’d be jumping into action alongside her. It’s two against one and he has combat training; they could take DJ out if they worked together. But it’s like his limbs are frozen; all he can do is stand there like an idiot, staring dumbly as Rose throws messy punches at DJ’s chest.

DJ indulges her for a second and lets a punch or two land. Then he’s moving in a blur, dropping one hand to his waist and snapping out a blaster, grabbing Rose by the shoulder with his other hand and pulling her back against his chest.

She screams, raking her fingers over his arm but if he feels anything beneath the leather of his jacket it doesn’t show on his face. He brings his blaster up to rest against her temple, just under the fall of her hair. “N-not another word out of you,” he says, pulling her to her feet.

Finn finally manages to meet her eyes. She’s crying.

DJ fixes Finn with a flat stare. “C-come here and kiss her.”

Something twists in his gut. He’d rather just be forced by DJ. But no, that would be too clean a cut. DJ wants to make it messy, DJ is going to make Finn an accomplice in this, make him take part in hurting her.

His revulsion has to show on his face; DJ sighs, rolling his eyes. “She likes you. Y-you should see the way she looks at you, when you’re turned away.”

DJ’s voice is steady, and Finn knows like a punch to the gut that he’s telling the truth. His heart twists, because he hadn’t noticed. Because he should have noticed, and now he has to face it like this.

“Any day now.”

He doesn’t dignify DJ with a response. Instead he stares Rose in the eyes and tries to signal to her through the Force or whatever that he doesn’t want to hurt her, that he’s doing this to protect her. But it doesn’t matter: she won’t look at him.

He steps forward on unsteady legs until he’s almost touching her, DJ a dark presence behind her. She’s shorter than either of them, and he has to lean down to reach her. Her lips are clamped shut in a hard line; he can almost taste her anger. He thinks she might spit on him; he wishes she would. But no, she just stands there, and it’s almost worse than being on his knees with a blaster to his head.

DJ leans over Rose’s head, brushing his lips against the shell of Finn’s ear. “Good,” he purrs, his breath hot against Finn’s skin.

Finn jerks back and opens his mouth to spit out an insult, but before he can speak DJ is biting down hard on his earlobe. The pain blooms bright, and Finn loses whatever he was going to say in a yelp.

“Quiet,” DJ mutters, releasing his ear. “N-now: listen very closely: the room is holo-bugged. If we aren’t fucking in five minutes they’ll know the gig is up.”

He leans back, strokes the barrel of his blaster down Rose’s cheek. “Now, kiss her neck,” he says in a louder voice.

Finn leans down again and presses a line of dry kisses down Rose’s neck; he can feel her heartbeat hammering against his lips.

DJ leans in to lave his tongue over Finn’s earlobe; Finn bites back a shiver. “I’ll let you go when we get out of range but for now you need to play along or we all go down.”

Rose’s lips curl. “We don’t trust you, you piece of-“

“Y-you don’t have much of a choice,” he cuts in.

“If you actually wanted to help us,” she bites, “you could have come up with a different plan. One that didn’t involve _this_.”

Finn swallows. She can’t say it either, what’s going to happen. She’s braver than him, but even she can’t face it head on.

DJ shrugs. “This was what I thought of.”

Finn thinks of the way DJ had stared at them as they knelt in the hangar bay. The hunger in his eyes. “You weren’t lying,” he says. “When you said you… wanted us.”

DJ shrugs again. “A b-bit of truth makes a lie more b-believable.”

“You’re a monster,” Rose spits.

He doesn’t seem upset by the venom in her voice. “You’re alive. Would you like to stay that way?”

She doesn’t say anything at first. DJ lets out a theatrical sigh and strokes the barrel of his blaster down the pillar of her neck, letting the tip rest against the swell of her breast. “I n-need a yes or a no. I won’t do this without your permission. If you’d rather d-die, I can arrange that.”

“That isn’t a real choice,” she hisses.

“It’s the best you’re going to get.”

She’s silent, hovering on the edge of violence, and Finn can’t tell what she’s going to say, or what he wants her to say. He’ll follow her lead and accept the consequences.

All of a sudden she deflates, and the word slips from her lips so quiet Finn almost doesn’t hear her: “Fine.”

DJ chuckles softly and presses a kiss to Finn’s forehead, then another to the crown of her head. “I’d hoped you’d say that.” And with that he’s lowering the blaster and stepping away from them.

Finn holds his breath. Some part of him hopes this is a feint, and Rose is preparing to jump at DJ and take him down properly this time. He’s not brave enough to do it himself, but he’s prepared now: if she tries again, he’ll help her. They could get the blaster away from him, tie him up against one of the railings, and then- and then-

And then what? If DJ is telling the truth about the First Order surveillance, they’re dead. Even if he’s lying and this is all a sick prank, the gig is up the second they try to undock the _Libertine_ and DJ isn’t there to give the right authorization codes.

Rose seems to come to the same conclusion. She swallows, mouth thinned into an unhappy line. “How do you want to fuck us, _sir_?”

He acknowledges her fury with a crooked grin. “Me? Oh no, I don’t want to fuck you,” he says, and Finn dares to hope that he’s been misreading DJ’s intentions all along. But then DJ’s smile widens. “I want to watch you.”

Somehow this is even worse.

DJ sits down on the edge of the _Libertine’s_ deluxe ergonomically inclined bed and leans back against the headboard, legs splayed in a loose vee. “Kiss each other,” he says, gesturing vaguely from Finn to Rose with his blaster. “Like you mean it this time.”

Finn stares down at Rose. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

She swallows, and he sees a conflict warring across her face. He can tell the moment she makes a decision; then he sees her reach a decision. “Don’t be,” she whispers back.

And then she’s wrapping her hands around his head and pulling him down into a kiss.

Her lips are warm against his, and soft. He opens his mouth to whisper another apology to her, but she’s having none of it, and deepens the kiss instead. She pushes her way into his mouth, running her tongue over his teeth and biting at his lower lip as his eyes flutter shut. She kisses him like she’s a force of nature: he’s just along for the ride. He lets himself drift, lets himself pretend they’re somewhere else, just the two of them, and he’s kissing her because they both want it, because she’s beautiful and smiles at him like he’s got stars in his eyes.

Somewhere far away he hears the sound of clapping, but it doesn’t seem very important.

When his lungs start to burn he licks across her lips one last time and then pulls away to take a breath.

“Very nice,” DJ says. His voice is still that same dry monotone it always is, and his face is shuttered. Finn would guess he was bored except the crotch of his pants is tented, and his knuckles are white where he grips his blaster.

“Are we entertaining?” Rose snarls, lips red and shiny.

DJ pretends to think for a second. “Somewhat. But I want more. Come here.”

Rose approaches him like he’s a venomous snake, Finn trails behind her, lips still tingling from the kiss. She stops by the edge of the bed, Finn a hairsbreadth behind her.

“Kneel,” DJ says.

Rose sinks to her feet, every muscle taut with tension. After a moment’s hesitation Finn follows, kneeling at her side. DJ’s crotch is right at eye level. Finn tries to look somewhere else- but the mirrored walls just show him the same picture, and his eyes keep trailing back to DJ, who is now unhooking the clasp on his belt and slipping his pants down over his hips. His cock springs free, and Finn has to look at it, even though he doesn’t want to. He swallows. It’s big, bigger than his own. He’s seen other cocks before, of course- furtive looks in the showers, squints in the dark of his bunk at grainy bootleg holos- but never up close. He feels heat pool in his stomach.

DJ scoots to the edge of the bed, widening his legs so that both Finn and Rose can kneel between them. “I trust you’ve done this before?”

Rose scowls. “I’m not a child.”

DJ reaches out to stroke the back of his hand down her cheek in a mockery of a caress. “No, you aren’t.” He glances at Finn, perfunctory. “And you?”

Finn opens his mouth- DJ doesn’t need to know this; DJ is the bad guy here, Finn doesn’t have to tell him shit- but he can’t bring himself to say anything. He stares at the ground.

“Oh Finn,” Rose says softly, and the softness in her voice is sharp enough to cut him.

Finn hadn’t put a lot of thought into the whole virginity thing; it hadn’t been a conscious choice. It was just that there wasn’t any space for it in the fleet, and there wasn’t any time for it in the rebellion. He’d had fantasies of asking people- Slip and Zeroes in the fleet, and more recently Poe or Rey or Rose herself- but he’d never been brave enough. There were sex workers on the base, but he’d always sort of hoped his first time would be special instead of a quick fuck and a dump of credits in a stranger’s account. Joke’s on him, instead of that he’s going to be giving a blowjob at gunpoint to a guy that just threatened to kill him.

DJ is watching him, an unreadable expression on his face. “Just use your tongue for now,” DJ says at last.

Rose shoots DJ a glare, and then swoops in to lick a hard stripe up the side of DJ’s cock like it’s a challenge, wringing a sharp breath from DJ.

Finn watches with wide eyes as she works her way up the shaft, lips bright with spit, eyes closed in concentration. He feels a twinge in his own cock at the sight and flushes; he’s not supposed to be enjoying any of this. But he can’t look away from her. Fuck, but she’s beautiful like this; he wants to kiss her, he wants to kiss her until she’s smiling and laughing and breathless.

DJ swears quietly and Finn remembers that he’s supposed to be helping. He can’t let her do this by herself. _Be brave,_ he tells himself, and leans in to hesitantly press a kiss to the tip of DJ’s cock.

It’s warm beneath his lips. He doesn’t know why that surprises him; DJ is as much flesh and blood as he is. It tastes… different, not like anything else. Finn drags the flat of his tongue over the head, entranced despite himself by the weight and feel of it on his tongue.

Above him, DJ hisses. “Quick learner,” he mutters, and Finn flushes from the praise and the shame at the same time, his cock twitching in his pants. He licks at DJ again and again, tension leaving him as he loses himself in his task. Every time DJ’s cock twitches Finn’s does as well, and that’s probably sick and wrong but he can’t help it, not when DJ is looking at him like that, not when Rose’s mouth is making sounds that wet and obscene.

Rose puts a hand on his knee and nudges him out of the way, then takes DJ in her mouth, and swallows him down. DJ is panting now, blaster abandoned, hands knotted in the bedsheets. Finn does his best to help her: he laves his tongue like he saw her do, kisses the side of her mouth as she works, and rubs circles into the palm of her hand with his thumb.

DJ is a wreck by now, watching the two of them helplessly as they work. His breath is a mess of gasps and swears; his hips are jerking forward like he can’t help but fuck into the wet heat of their mouths. Finn sees himself debauched in DJ’s eyes and feels it in his cock; he can’t lie to himself: he’s getting off on this and the shame makes it hotter. It’s a vicious cycle and there’s nothing he can do but lose himself to it.

Rose hums and Finn can’t help it, a moan escapes him as he ruts up into the empty air, needing a hand, friction, _something,_ on his cock.

DJ swears viciously; he reaches down and grabs Finn by the lapel of his stolen officer’s shirt and drags him up into a searing kiss. It’s nothing like kissing Rose: it’s hot and hard and all consuming. Trembling, Finn’s hips stutter against the delicious friction of the bed as DJ plunders his mouth.

DJ bites down hard on his lips and he cries out, even as he feels DJ freeze beneath him, jerk once, twice, and then release Finn to slump back down to his knees.

Finn catches his breath and turns to see that Rose is looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. He offers her a small smile. It’s going to be okay, DJ is spent. This will be the end of it; he’ll be satisfied and leave them alone. Of course, there’s a part of Finn that doesn’t want DJ to leave him alone, namely the part of him that’s desperately hard in his pants.

DJ finishes tucking himself back into his pants and looks down at Finn through lidded eyes. He leans back against the headboard. “Stand up, Finn.”

Finn gets up on unsteady legs, wishing the bulge in his pants wasn’t so obvious. They both must see it. But DJ only smiles. “Take your clothes off.”

Heart in his throat, Finn fumbles with the clasps of the officer’s uniform until the shirt and pants fall free and puddle on the ground. He feels naked and exposed: DJ is devouring him with his eyes, Rose is blushing, and fuck, there are probably First Order stormtroopers watching him over the feed too- and none of that does anything to flag his painfully hard erection.

DJ swallows. Beneath the fall of his lashes, his eyes are very dark. He gestures Finn forward with a wave of his hand, and when Finn takes a hesitant step forward DJ pulls him down onto the bed so that Finn is lying back against DJ’s chest. He can feel the softening length of DJ’s cock against his hip, and knows his own is on full display to the room. He can’t do this; he can’t face this; he twists his head sideways, and clenches his eyes shut.

There are hands spidering down at his nipples and he can’t help it: he gasps, arching into the touch. “Eyes open,” DJ growls.

When he opens his eyes Rose is glaring at DJ. “Don’t tease him,” Rose says, voice hard. “He deserves better.”

Behind him, DJ sighs. The sound rumbles through Finn’s chest. “Would you rather I make it hurt?”

Finn gets the sense that Rose would prefer it that way; at least then they could feel like martyrs instead of traitors to their own bodies. But she just shakes her head and looks at him helplessly, and he wishes he could kiss her and make everything better.

“Ride him,” DJ says, and Finn barely has a moment to parse what he means before Rose is leaning down onto the bed to kiss him. She kneels inside the vee of DJ’s legs, her thighs warm against Finn’s, and then she’s pulling her shirt up over her head and shimmying out of her pants. Her breasts are flush against his chest, her hands are carding through her hair, and Finn doesn’t know how to do anything but feel.

There’s another hand now, DJ’s, twisting at his nipple and suddenly there’s a mouth latching at the corner of his jaw and the scratch of stubble against his neck.

He pants, whining, but there’s no escape.

Rose takes him inside her, and all too soon it’s unbearable: she’s fucking herself on his cock while DJ is whispering filth into his ears: _lovely_ and _b-beautiful_ and _come for me.  
_And over and over and over: _I'm sorry._

When Finn finally falls apart he's crying" half grateful that it's over, but only half.

***

Finn dozes. When he wakes, Rose is curled up against him, fast asleep. He reaches out to tuck one of her curls behind her ears, but freezes at the sound of a quiet cough from behind him.

“We’ve undocked,” DJ murmurs.

Finn turns. His tongue feels clumsy when he tries to speak. “They didn’t stop us.”

DJ shakes his head. “Not yet.”

Even sleep addled, Finn catches the edge in DJ’s voice. “Yet?”

Shrugging, DJ stands up and heads for the door of the cabin. “The holos will keep on transmitting for another day or so.”

Something twists in Finn’s stomach. “How convenient for you.”

There’s a mocking twist to DJ’s mouth as he pauses by the door. “Of course. L-lucky me.” He lets the door shut behind him and Finn is left alone with Rose, and his thoughts.


End file.
